


Stolen Moments, Lingering Kisses, Burning Touches

by HobblyWobbly



Series: Therefore You and Me [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn, Grinding, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Pre-Relationship, Sloppy Makeouts, Trans Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), although it doesnt come up, no full on sex, not yet at least, theyre just horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25484839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobblyWobbly/pseuds/HobblyWobbly
Summary: Their eyes meet in the briefest of moments before Mikta tears his gaze away, shy, unsure. A gentle hand takes his own, thumb stroking over the dirty knuckles.“Wouldn’t want you to overbalance,” G’raha murmurs. A thumb strokes over Mikta’s hip bone. Affectionate, loving, the calm before the storm. He wants to dive into that hurricane and never emerge from the other side.“I’ll allow it,” Mikta breaths.“Good.”Mikta barely has time to collect his thoughts before he is shoved up against one of the crystalline columns and kissed.G'raha and Mikta leave on a mission to clear out a group of Gigas in a newfound research site for NOAH. They get a little side tracked.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: Therefore You and Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980121
Kudos: 24





	Stolen Moments, Lingering Kisses, Burning Touches

**Author's Note:**

> this is so fucking self indulgent

“There is a new site we have discovered outside the Crystal Tower, but there have been sightings of Gigas that could prove dangerous to the researchers. We need you two to clear it out.”

It was just a simple mission. In and out. Clear the area so the researchers of N.O.A.H. could run their scans on the area. And yet, like all things, G’raha threw a wrench in the plan.

It was just a simple tease. A simple suggestion that could have had _so_ many other interpretations, but Mikta saw how G’raha’s lips parted, how his tail began to sway just a tad too differently, how the battle-worn hands gripping his bow gripped harder.

He could have ignored it. Could have continued his own research and scans and gone back to camp pretending he saw nothing. But he didn’t.   
  
Mikta swallows and stands. The mission was now eternities away, long forgotten by the two.

It’s impressive how fast the two are on each other.

G’raha’s bow is tossed aside with the arrows scattering about in what would surely be hell to clean up later, Mikta’s grimoire long forgotten on the grass where the pages flap in the wind, the rest of the research equipment being left unattended to.

Mikta’s breath hitches when hands splay over his curves, fingers slipping under the thin robes, finding purchase. His touch _burns_. He needs _more._ He moves with G’raha, careful not to pin his entire body weight on him. His palms, slightly sweaty, grip G’raha’s broad shoulders for balance. Their eyes meet in the briefest of moments before Mikta tears his gaze away, shy, unsure. A gentle hand takes his own, thumb stroking over the dirty knuckles.

“Wouldn’t want you to overbalance,” G’raha murmurs. A thumb strokes over Mikta’s hip bone. Affectionate, loving, the calm before the storm. He wants to dive into that hurricane and never emerge from the other side.

“I’ll allow it,” Mikta breaths.

“Good.”

Mikta barely has time to collect his thoughts before he is shoved up against one of the crystalline columns and kissed.

G’raha kisses Mikta soft and slow at one moment, nips his bottom lip in another, and lightly sucks his tongue the next. The seemingly thoughtless changes leaves him confused and desperate for what comes next. He breaks away to kiss down his neck. Without warning, G’raha parts his lips and sucks hard. Mikta swoons at the assault on his sensitive skin. Sharp teeth graze the abused flesh. G’raha shudders suddenly, and pulls away, but not before apologetically kissing over the area, tiny, electrified shivers being sent down Mikta’s spine from the gentle touches.

He has never realized just how much he craved the intimate touch of another.

In a mad rush, Mikta’s mind catches up with him. His heart drums repeatedly in his chest, the thumping echoing in his ears. His face flushes further, and a sinking, spiraling sensation grows in his stomach.

Mikta has always been one to think things through before acting on his emotions, prone to bouts of recklessness and being blinded by his anger. Years of harsh discipline and harsher self-restraint helped soothe his impulsive nature into something more controlled. It was how, for years, he managed to ward off the invitations to warm others’ beds and to ignore the lingering touches upon his waist and the heat in the gaze of others.

He has had others attempt to coax him into their beds- it was inevitable being the hero of Eorzea for everyone craved a test of fame even if it came off their lips (who wouldn’t wish to hear the stories of one who slept with the Warrior of Light?)- yet all it took was for this scholar to flash his fangs and crack a joke and Mikta is spreading his legs.

The closest he’d ever gotten to sex before had been with a boy in his guild days with eyes like honey and had seen Mikta for what he could be, not what he was. He hadn’t been afraid of the things he could do with the arcane nor how his eyes would change pigment when his emotions grew too great. They had been in the boy's family library, studying what they could. Mikta had been in a new dress he bought on sale when the boy kissed him. He had called him pretty that night. They ended up in a heap of gangly limbs upon the floor, kissing the time away and surrounded by heaps of tomes, hands wandering, laughter echoing in the halls. The boy’s father soon found them after. 

Sometimes the feeling of his hand across his cheek still stung in the nights when the nightmares became too great, mind dragging up nuggets of the past, what if’s dancing across his gaze forever out of his grasp.

 _What the fuck am I doing_? he thinks, half hysterical, briefly returning to that rustic kitchen, throwing up his defenses to prepare for a slap, for the disgust to be forever engraved into his soul.

G’raha, always keen to pick up on the other’s emotions, runs a soothing hand up his flank, lean fingers tracing the smooth skin, successfully reminding him of the present. Mikta arches the best he could against the pillar at the sensation of skin on skin. The calluses under his palm are driving him mad.

“Breathe. I’m here, with you. There is no one to hurt you,” he whispers, his kisses turned soft once more, helping chase away the ghosts of the past.

_Ah, yes, this is why._

When he pulls back for air it gives Mikta a brief moment of respite, his lips red from all the biting, pupils blown wide, nearly all the color in his eyes consumed, chest heaving, heart still pounding in his ears. 

A whispered _“more”_ is all the permission G’raha needs to dive right back in.

Mikta whines when G’raha stops kissing him completely, pulling back, slowly licking his lips as his eyes take in the sight before him. He shivers as fangs gently scrape along his neck, nearly jumping as sly fingers begin to trail up along Mikta’s inner thigh. There’s a challenge in Graha’s mocking smile.

He bristles, always one to jump to the occasion, never one to shy away even in a place outside his expertise. His eyes flash as he does what he believes would feel good and pushes his hips up, clothed erection sliding against G’raha’s. The scholar bucks up involuntarily, clearly not having expected him to rise to the bait. He recovers quickly, and Mikta is met with sly eyes, and an unreasonably pleased smile.

He hates him. He wants to kiss him.

“What if the researchers show?” Mikta pants, grinding against him once more. G’raha, hands grasping his waist, bares his teeth. He swiftly leans forward and grabs the back of Mikta’s neck with newfound leverage, pulling him back towards him. Mikta yelps, taken off balance. He buries his face into his shoulder, breathing in the earthy, woodsy scent that was so distinctly G’raha. Not like he memorized it or anything. His skin burned. His touch burned. Everything _burned_.

“And what if they do, love?” G’raha’s lips find purchase near the sensitive spot in his neck.

“Will you stop?”

He punctuates his sentence by thrusting up just as Mikta grinds down. 

Stars explode behind Mikta’s freshly shut lids. He bites back a whine. That was _different._

 _Of course not_ , his mind unhelpfully supplies.

To Mikta’s utter surprise, G’raha suddenly steps away with practiced ease. His eyes slam open before fixing him with a glare.

“I’d rather not, but you do have a point. Knowing them, they will either find a way to blackmail us into doing extra work, or tell Rammbroes. I’m not overly fond of either situation,” G’raha sighs. “Mayhaps it’s best if we continue this elsewhere.” Mikta does _not_ whine, but he does something close.

“Tent?” He suggests. He bites his lip, purposely, for good measure and widens his eyes more, looking to G’raha with all the innocence and charm he could muster. It wasn’t a lot. “Yours or mine?”

G’raha seems to have already decided, if his expression is anything to go by.

“Yours.” Mikta preens at the speedy response.

“Why, afraid I’ll find a hidden lover or the like?” G’raha takes advantage of his pleasant mood shift and pulls him back down by his nape. His hot breath tickles Mikta’s neck.

“You never know,” he rumbles, nosing the space between his earlobe and shoulder slope. _Dangerous._ His mind supplies. Sharp teeth graze along the sensitive skin. _Impulsive._ His tail curls with Mikta’s, stroking along the length of it. _Absolutely infuriating._ Plump lips meet his own in a sweet kiss, G’raha smiling against him, the faint rumble of a purr building his chest. _Mine._

It takes all of Mikta’s willpower to break away.

With great reluctance, he peels himself off of G’raha, ignoring the pins and needles that have made their homes in his legs. G’raha follows suit, standing, both taking a moment to adjust themselves. Mikta guides him steadily, collecting his belongings that had been scattered across the ruins, feigned confidence contrasting with the dull thudding in his ears.

He glances back to find G’raha sliding his arrows back into their holster, their eyes meeting across the rubble, a boyish, almost sheepish smile being sent his way, a pleasantly adorable flush highlighting the sun-kissed freckles on his cheeks, a stark contrast to the absolute animal that had been destroying Mikta’s neck. His heart leaps in his chest. Mikta shyly smiles back, their tails curling once more in a comfortable, loose grasp.

Rammbroes was going to kill them.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i have a twitter come say hi!! i post a lot of pics of mikta and graha and rt a bunch of art- not spoiler friendly so be warned!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H0bblyW0bbly)


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